


Bring Me Roses

by SkyeBean



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Getting Back Together, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Movie: X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), Movie: X-Men: Dark Phoenix (2019), Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Beach Divorce (X-Men), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014), X-Men: First Class (2011), well...it's pretty canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28085883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyeBean/pseuds/SkyeBean
Summary: Four moments set across the four films, looking at Erik and Charles' relationship and how it evolves.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Raven | Mystique & Charles Xavier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven's view of Charles and Erik's relationship in First Class.  
> aka, Raven and Charles are siblings and go from 0 to 100 in about one second flat.

Raven has decided that Charles and Erik are an obnoxious couple.

It’s not that she’s mad that they’re both men – _please,_ she’s known Charles is interested in men and women for years – or that she thinks Erik is going to be a bad influence – although he totally is. It’s that they’re so _adoring_.

On practically anyone else, Raven would be delighted to see them so obviously enamoured. With her brother, who likes to think he raised her? …Not so much.

The worst part is that they think they’re being _subtle_ ; that the five people stuck in the (admittedly very spacious) mansion with them can’t see that they’re fucking. Or hear it, on the nights that Raven is particularly unfortunate.

Which brings her up to right now: she’s sitting in the kitchen, balanced on the table with her legs slung over a chair as she eats a spoonful of peanut butter, and then Charles walks in.

His hair is sticking out at every angle, and he’s wearing a shirt that is a few sizes too big for him, and the very edge of a hickey is peeking out from his collar, and Raven _hates it_.

“Woah,” Charles says, coming to a stop halfway a few meters away from the table. “What’s wrong?”

Raven fixes him with her worst glare, utterly pissed off that her stupid telepath brother can’t read it for himself because she _really does not want to have this conversation with him_ , and then kicks the chair away and hops down from the table. “Nothing,” she growls, and starts over to put away the peanut butter.

Because wherever Charles goes, Erik isn’t far behind, and she doesn’t want to be here when—

Too late. Footsteps pad on the floorboards outside, and then the man who’s wormed his way into Charles’ heart enters the kitchen.

Charles’ expression melts like the butter Hank had cooked the onions in last night, and why can’t it be like when _Raven_ or _Charles_ tries to cook: burned and inedible. Something you want nothing to do with.

Then she notices that Erik is _limping_ and that’s _really not something she ever wanted to know about her brother and his boyfriend_.

“Where are you going?” Charles asks, the pure elation from before falling into a pout that normally makes Raven listen to what he’s saying.

She steels her heart and promises herself that she will not give in. Even though she’s currently retreating out of the kitchen door, into the gardens. Which will be freezing cold this early in the morning.

Damn it. She didn’t think this through.

It’s then that she remembers her brother asked her a question. “I have…a thing to do. Yes. A…very important thing.”

“Outside?” Erik’s voice is rough with sleep, and full of amusement, and Raven may agree with his ideas about humans but in that moment she hates every particle in his body.

“Yes,” she answers immediately, and then regrets it when Charles goes from confused to worried.

Her regret evaporates when he and Erik exchange another sappy look, and she takes the last step back so she can finally reach the door handle—

It locks itself with a resounding _click_ the second that her hand touches it, and Raven whips around to fix Erik with a truly venomous glare. The only thing it accomplishes is making his smirk widen.

“Erik, please,” Charles says, and he sounds disappointed, and that alone is enough to make Erik flick his fingers so the lock clicks back open.

Before Raven can make her escape, though, Charles continues talking.

“Why are you ignoring me?” he asks.

She stills with the door halfway open – the early September chill starts to blow in, but she doesn’t let herself shiver.

“Raven?” The words sound slightly desperate now, and Raven wonders if she’s been spending less time with him than she thought.

It takes her a moment to formulate a proper response, and then she says, “I’m not ignoring you.”

Charles lets out a snort, and when Raven turns back around – because this is sounding like something that’s going to need a proper conversation, no matter how uncomfortable it’s going to be – he is sat at the kitchen table, in the same seat as always.

“You’ve certainly been doing a good job of acting like you are.”

Raven returns the snort, echoing Charles’ exact sound. “You’re not an expert in people, just their brains.”

“Neither are you,” Charles points out, and then gestures to the seat opposite him at their kitchen table. That’s the seat that Raven always sits in, and for a moment she considers taking a different one just to be contrary but—no. Even she has limits.

Raven lets herself fall into her chair.

“Your feet are on the bar,” she grumbles, poking at Charles’ feet where they’re resting on the bar under the table. That had long been declared no-man’s-land.

Charles raises an eyebrow. “How do you know that my feet are on the bar, unless you’re trying to put _your_ feet on the bar?”

“Because I have eyes,” Raven counters, then adds, “Prick,” under her breath.

Erik sets a mug down on the side with a thump at that moment, and both siblings turn to look at him with the exact same annoyed expression on their faces.

“Are you finished?” he asks, his eyes dancing with laughter.

Raven pulls a face at him, but then he goes to get milk from the fridge and he is once again limping and she remembers exactly why she hates her brother.

“Your feet still aren’t off the bar,” she says to Charles as a means of distracting herself.

He squawks, indignant, and pretends like Raven can’t see him quickly shifting his legs. “They absolutely are! You can check, if you want. I guarantee, you will find that I am _well_ within my half of the table.”

“Now, sure,” Raven says. “But you weren’t until I said that.”

“Lies,” Charles mutters under his breath. “Horridly heinous lies.”

Raven very calmly says, “I thought you were swallowing Erik up there, not a thesaurus.”

Erik spits his coffee across the kitchen, slamming the mug down on the side to hit his chest as he chokes on the liquid; Charles pretends like his cheeks aren’t flushing and arches an eyebrow.

“Like you’re one to talk, with all the time you spend with Hank.”

“Oh-ho-ho!” Raven says, shaking her head and leaning in closer. “ _I’m_ not the one making my boyfriend scream loud enough for the whole house to hear.”

They’re both ignoring Erik, who’s still struggling for breath.

Charles’ eyes narrow. “No one said you had to listen.”

“I have _ears_ , Charles,” Raven said, giving him a Look. “I don’t want to hear my brother’s fucking.”

Charles opens his mouth to retort, but Raven isn’t done and keeps talking.

“I _also_ don’t want to hear my brother being fucked. Especially not against a wall. Or in the library.”

“We did not fuck in the library,” Charles immediately disagrees.

“You absolutely did! I walked in and heard _moaning_.” Raven pulls her most disgusted face, with her nose wrinkled up. “ _Moaning_ , Charles. _Moaning_. That’s not something I want to hear.”

“‘Moaning’,” Charles says, and even his ears are flushed now but they are Arguing and he will not back down no matter how embarrassed he is, “is not the same as _sex_ , Raven. I would think you should know that, after everything you did with Eddie—”

“Oh my god, not this _again_.”

“—back in Oxford. There was also Terrence, George,” Charles continues, speaking over his sister when she tries to interrupt, listing off each name on his fingers, “Myrtle, Richard—”

“I did _not_ fuck Richard,” Raven denies, her eyes flashing as she slams her hands down on the table and shoots to her feet.

Charles seems to realise that he’s gotten the upper hand, and smirks. “I’m sorry, do you want me to call him by his full title? Because I can do that, if you want, Raven. _Lord Richard the_ —”

“Shut up!” Raven shouted. “You _always_ do this, why do you _always_ do this—”

“You’re the one who started it,” Charles is quick to counter, standing up too so he isn’t _quite_ so dwarfed by his younger sister. “I was perfectly willing to have a calm conversation about this! _You_ were the one who brought up sex!”

Raven loudly scoffs. “Oh, please, that’s all this conversation was going to be about. What else were we going to discuss, how Erik likes his tea?”

“Well, we _were_ going to talk about how you’ve been avoiding me,” Charles says, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Raven. “Now I’m happy that you have been, if this is going to be what you’re like when I do talk to you.”

Raven sticks her tongue out at him.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Charles exclaims, pointing as if he’s got proof of something. Suddenly seeming to remember the presence of someone else in the room, he whirls to look at Erik. “See? I _told_ you that she would respond like this.”

Erik holds up his hands up in mock surrender, eyes still wide and flickering between the adopted siblings. “Hey, I’m not getting involved in…whatever the fuck this is.”

“It’s an argument,” Raven says, bristling as her focus slid to Erik. “What the hell else would it be?”

“Yeah, Erik,” Charles says. “What else would it be?”

Erik huffs a laugh, but he both looks and sounds more shell-shocked than anything else. “If you think this is an argument, I look forward to seeing you in civilised debates.” He says it wryly, and Raven scoffs.

“You’d look forward to seeing Charles in anything.” She intends it to sound mocking, and is pretty proud of her delivery.

“Don’t talk to Erik like that,” Charles snaps, turning back to his sister. “He was just making a joke.”

“Fine, I won’t,” Raven says, sneering at her brother. “I won’t talk to either of you, because you’re a bloody wanker and he’s a suck-up. In both the literal and metaphorical sense.”

With those words, she storms off and Charles is left at the table with a furious expression on his face that is rather out of place without someone to direct it at.

* * *

The next day, Raven finds her brother in the library, curled up in his favourite window seat with one of his boring books on genetics or something like that.

When she stops in front of him and clears her throat, Charles doesn’t look up. He just says, “Go away. I’m not interested in an apology.”

“If you were a proper telepath, you’d know I’m not about to give you one,” Raven tells him, but the words don’t hold the sharpness of the previous day. She hesitates, then plonks herself down next to him.

It’s a squeeze, with both of them in the window, but they used to sit there together for hours when they were younger and neither of them have managed to shake the habit, even after years away in England. It shows, in how Charles instinctively moves his legs to one side so Raven can fit hers in too.

“If you’re not going to apologise, then you can leave,” he says, returning to his book.

It takes Raven another moment to think of something to say, and while her brain is working Charles’ eyes continue down the page. When she does finally start speaking, though, he puts the book down with only his finger keeping his place.

“I’m not used to you doing…serious,” Raven admits. “You know, romantic relationship-wise. You’ve fucked people before, sure, and I hate it when I walk in on that, but there’s a difference between seeing a different person every morning and…Erik.”

She gives Charles a moment to respond, and he purses his lips before saying, “Eloquent.”

“Shut up,” Raven says, but there isn’t any heat to it even as she gently smacks his knees. “I have shit to say.”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt.” Charles laughs at his own words, which is tacky.

Raven tells him so, and he laughs again.

“ _Anyway_ ,” she continues, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m not going to make any more jokes about your sex life.” She pauses, considering, and then amends, “I'm not going to make _m_ _any_ more jokes about your sex life. Can you, like, keep it down, though? You are… _very loud_.”

“Noted,” Charles says with a nod. “We weren’t trying to be, but Erik can get rather loud.”

Raven slaps her hands over her ears, letting out a screech. “ _Not relevant information!_ ”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Beach Divorce didn't leave Charles and Erik on good terms with each other.

Charles hasn’t thought through what he’s going to do or say to Erik after eleven years, but he surprises himself by socking his ex-boyfriend right across the mouth.

To be fair to him, he can read the man pretty well even without his telepathy and that look on Erik’s face means he is thinking _filthy, filthy_ things and that _is not okay_.

“You _asshole_ ,” Charles spits out, falling back against the wall and clutching his now-aching fist.

“Good to see you too, old friend,” Erik says dryly, carefully prodding his cheek before pushing himself off the ground. “And _walking_.” There is anger in that single word, and pain, and it makes Charles hate him even more.

“You don’t have a _right_ to regret that.”

Erik’s eyebrows flick up in surprise at the jagged edges that Charles is so obviously displaying; Charles can’t bring himself to care.

“Well, you’ve certainly changed, old friend.”

“ _Don’t call me that_.”

“Why are you here?” Erik asks, cold. “You’re not here to kiss and make-up, and I doubt you’re here to talk, so what is it? Are you going to kill me, Charles?” His eyes flash dangerously, and he takes another step forward. “Have you really changed _that_ much?”

Charles _resents_ the implication in that statement. Before he can respond, though, Logan clears his throat behind Charles, and he turns to blink at the man for a moment before returning his focus to Erik.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to,” Charles says, wrenching some of the unfiltered venom out of his voice. They need Erik to work with them, and Charles needs to keep their issues away from the kid staring at them from the corner, and _god, he really needs a drink right now_. “No killing. From _any_ of us. Even if it means going back in that cell of yours.”

Erik smirks again, that smirk that means he’s thinking of dirty things, and Charles _really_ wants to punch him again. “No helmet. I couldn’t disobey you even if I wanted.”

Charles shakes his head, and he wants to get away from Erik, from this time travel shit, from this whole situation, but he can’t because Raven is in danger and Raven is _important_ so he takes a step forward, and then another one, until he is right up in Erik’s space. It’s a threat as much as it is a dare.

“I am _never_ ,” he says, enunciating each word clearly, “getting inside that head again.”

Erik cocks an eyebrow and Charles _hates him, he hates him, he hates him_ , and _no_ brain, that _doesn’t mean you’re going to fuck him_.

“I’ll give you my word?” Erik suggests. Like the fucking bastard that he is.

Like he hasn't given his word before, and then gone back on it to try and murder thousands. Like he didn't promise himself to _Charles_ , once.

“I know how much _that’s_ worth,” Charles scoffs, and turns away to pat Logan on the shoulder. If he lets his hand linger just a second too long, if he knows exactly how much the gesture’s going to piss his ex-boyfriend off, he doesn’t let it show. “He’s all yours, Logan.”

* * *

“So you were always an asshole,” Logan says, once Charles has retreated into the cockpit. He flicks his lighter on, and lights his cigar.

Erik turns to him, and everything feels too…too sharp and jagged, and following Charles was a _bad idea_ , but he’s here now and he _will not show weakness_ in front of this asshole. “I take it we’re _best_ _buddies_ in the future?”

Instead of being intimidated, Logan just chuckles. “I spent a lot of years trying to bring you down, bub.” He uses his chin to point to the cockpit, where Charles is sitting. And Hank too. “Never thought you two had a past.”

Erik immediately stiffens at those words, and he glares _daggers_ at this newcomer who thinks he has any comprehension of his and Charles’ relationship. “What are you trying to say?”

“Relax,” Logan tells him, holding up a pacifying hand that does not pacify Erik in any way, shape or form. “In the future, things are different. When the whole goddamn world is on fire, no one has the time to give a shit if two men are fucking.”

“You come here…” Erik says, and his voice is low and dangerous and he is on the _brink_ of violence except – Logan doesn’t flinch. In fact, he seems to be amused by it.

“Yeah, I come here,” Logan says, “and I talk about you and Charles, ‘cause this whole thing is a shitshow of massive proportions, and I wonder what the hell happened between the two of you.”

“That’s none of your business.”

Logan scoffs. “It will be. ‘Cause, believe you me, I’m not going to let this slide when I return to the future. So you either explain things to me now, or then. What’s it going to be?”

“None of this,” Erik repeats, his hands clenching into fists at his sides, “is any of your business.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Logan takes a long drag of his cigarette. “You know, not telling me anything just makes me think there’s more of a story than just you sending your ex flying down an aeroplane after yelling at him for wanting to walk.” 

Erik lets out a derisive snort, and turns away. “That’s not what that was,” he says over his shoulder, starting back to his seat.

“Wasn’t it?” Logan asks. “’Cause that’s sure what it looked like to me. And,” he adds, “that’s what it looked like to Charles too.”

Erik stills. For some reason, the idiot takes it as an indication to continue.

“I knew Charles pretty well in future, and let me tell you—telepathy wasn’t always a gift. If he wants to takes drugs to get rid of it, that’s bad but understandable. If _you_ want to criticise him for wanting to walk…” Logan lets the words hang in the air as a threat. Erik doesn’t let himself concede an inch.

“You may have heard one side of the argument,” he tells the arrogant mutant who presumes to know him, “but I can assure you that Charles is just as much in the wrong. He gets people killed, sitting in that mansion of his while our kind are hunted across the globe. That day on the beach…he betrayed everything we stood for.”

Logan snorts. “Everyone suffers at some point in their life, bub. If that’s your excuse, you do you. But don’t try to hurt the assholes in that cockpit – either of them.”

“You stick to your place, and I’ll stick to mine,” Erik says, before taking a seat facing away from Logan. He is hyperaware of every piece of metal on the other mutant, and if Logan moves an inch towards him, Erik will know.


	3. Chapter 3

After everything has gone down with En Sabuh Nur, and the mansion has been reconstructed, Charles positions his wheelchair by his favourite window in the library and pulls out his favourite book on genetics.

It’s only a few minutes later that Erik’s mind approaches, and then the door to the library opens with a click, and footsteps ring as Erik crosses the floorboards.

“Hello,” Charles murmurs, spinning his wheelchair to face the man he was fighting only a few days before. “How are you doing, Erik?”

Erik shrugs, and the gesture is a little too tense and even despite Erik’s mental shields Charles can read the man like a book, but he doesn’t comment on it. “I’m…dealing with it. You know how things go sometimes.”

“I do know how things go sometimes,” Charles agrees, and keeps his voice soft and gentle. He’s glad that no one else is in the library – instead occupied by lessons, and training for a few – as the last time he and Erik tried to have this kind of conversation it went badly. “I…also know how you deal with things.”

Instead of reacting poorly, though, Erik just huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah. I also know that.”

“How are you doing, really?” Charles asks again, looking up at his once-boyfriend with wide eyes. “I can—” his voice catches “—I can feel how much you loved them – both of them. That isn’t something that’s easy to deal with.”

Erik doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Charles worries he’s said the wrong thing, until Erik speaks again.

“Her name was Nina.” The words are quiet, almost a whisper, and there is a brush of deep, overwhelming, sorrow before Erik snaps it back inside of his shields. “She was…she was perfect, Charles.” Charles meets Erik’s gaze, and doesn’t comment on the tears welling at the corner of his eyes. “She was…”

“Tell me about them.”

It’s not an order, but a gentle request.

Erik accepts it. “Nina was friends with all the animals in the forest,” he says, and now there is a slight smile on his face too. “That was her power, you see. Because she was like us. Except—except that was what—” He breaks off, his shoulders shaking slightly; Charles knows what he was about to say anyway.

“You think that Nina’s mutation is why she died.”

Choking back a sob, Erik barely manages to nod.

“As a geneticist,” Charles says, and his voice is firm, “I can tell you that no one’s mutation has ever killed them, and so you are not at fault for her death.”

“If it hadn’t been for me, she wouldn’t have died,” Erik says. “Not just her mutation, but my-my stupid mistakes, and the terrible things I did.”

Charles sighs. “I will not, ever, agree with the things you did in DC, or any of the other terrorist acts you performed. But, Erik…your daughter’s death and your wife’s death were tragic accidents. No one person is at fault for them, and seeing it that way will lead you back down that terrible path.” He hesitates before adding, “It already has lead you back down that path.”

“Not again,” Erik manages to get out. “Never…never again.”

“Make that their legacy,” Charles says.

Erik takes a shuddering breath in, and then out. “They deserve more than that.”

“A lot of people deserve more than that,” Charles replies, looking down at his hands as he remembers their first class. “A lot of people deserve to be more than just motivation, but that is what history reduces them to. If all you can do is give them that…”

He lets the sentence trail off, knowing that Erik understands his meaning.

“I won’t let Nina’s and M-Magda’s deaths be forgotten,” Erik says. The words aren’t quite a vow, but they’re close enough.

Charles solemnly nods. “I’ll remember them for you.”

There is silence for a while after that, with Erik standing still and Charles just sitting in his wheelchair, and then—

Erik leans down, and he’s then trying to kiss Charles but he’s stopped by a hand to his chest.

“Don’t do something you’re going to regret,” Charles says, and he doesn’t think he’s ever sounded quite to weary.

“I won’t regret it,” Erik replies, very serious.

Charles gives him a sad smile and simply says, “You will.”

“Charles—” Erik starts, but is cut off by the other man.

“I won’t play substitute for your dead wife, Erik.” Charles doesn’t let his weakness show, just keeps his expression serious as he look across at Erik, who’s still crouched at the same height as him.

“I’m not trying to!” Erik protests, pushing himself back up to take a few steps away and protectively cross his arms over his chest.

“Yes, you are,” Charles tells him. “You are grieving the loss of your wife and you’re confused and you’re falling back into a decades old relationship that you know isn’t going to work out.”

Before Erik can interrupt, Charles continues without stopping for more than a breath.

“Erik, we’re not in a place where this—” he gestured between them “—could work. We can’t—we can’t be that anymore. I don’t know if that’s ever going to change, but for now I think we’re better off calling each other ‘old friend’.”

Erik stares at him for a moment, and then asks, “Are you friend-zoning me?”

“Oh god,” Charles groans, looking away from his friend in embarrassment. “Don’t try—don’t try to use modern language, we are _far_ too old for that, you—you—”

Erik huffs a laugh, and then Charles does too, and then they are laughing together for the first time in years.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and Erik have a proper talk in Paris.

Charles has already felt Erik approaching, so isn’t surprised when the other man takes the seat across from him.

He’s not very surprised that Erik found him in Paris either, because Hank may be pissed at him right now but the man still worries about him like there’s no tomorrow. And Charles wouldn’t be surprised if that worry extended to contacting Erik.

“How’s retirement treating you?” Erik asks, and there’s a soft look in his eyes that is so at odds with his expressions the week before when they were fighting.

Charles chuckles weakly, shaking his head. “It’s…treating me. What are you doing here, Erik?”

“I came to see an old friend,” Erik says. “That’s what we decided we’d call this, right?”

Charles is about to give Erik a sad smile, but then a wave of shocking sincerity crests and crashes down just outside of Erik’s mental shields, and he realises—it’s a genuine check and confirmation, because Erik genuinely doesn’t want to push boundaries that he stretched to the limits last time because—

“I’m sorry for how I acted last time,” Erik continues. He’s meeting Charles’ gaze head-on. “Last time we had a talk, I mean. Not when we were fighting, I don’t really count that.”

Charles chuckles again. Instead of bitter he just feels…nostalgic. “I don’t think _anyone_ would count that.”

“Raven did,” Erik says, and now he looks down at table. “Every time we fought she’d complain about our ‘rampant sexual tension’ dominating the fight.”

 _That_ surprises a proper smile out of Charles as a wave of sentimentality washes over him at the reminder of his baby sister. “That sounds just like her.”

“She’d be horrified to see us getting along so well again,” Erik says fondly.

“She would,” Charles agrees. This is the first time since the funeral that sorrow and grief hasn’t been lurking in the back of his mind – maybe it’s been chased away by the sunlight of Paris, or maybe Erik’s presence is bringing back long-forgotten memories of a better time.

“She’d be delighted.”

Charles agrees with that, too. Raven was a terribly amazing sister who delighted in Charles’ suffering.

There’s a lull in conversation then, and the pair of them sit together in silence for a few minutes. Just remembering.

Then Erik leans forward. “A long time ago, you saved my life. Then you offered me a home. I would…I would like to do the same for you, Charles.”

Charles is a little taken aback, and he considers his response for a moment before asking, “Is this another elaborate scheme to get me into your bed?”

Erik throws his head back and laughs. “No,” the man manages to gasp out, seemingly uncaring of the people who have turned to stare, “no, Charles, it’s not.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Charles says, but he’s smiling too.

“I,” Erik says, still grinning that shark’s grin of his, “am genuinely inviting you to come and live with me.”

Charles raises a judgemental eyebrow. “Your socialist farm with very little wheelchair access?”

“That can easily be fixed,” Erik says, not even pausing to properly think about it. “I’m good with building work.”

“You are,” Charles has to admit, and then says, “I’m interested.”

“In which part?” Erik asks.

Charles frowns. “The moving to Genosha. What other parts are there?”

“You seemed to think that sex was on the table,” Erik says. There is an amused glint in his eye, and a smirk on his face, and Charles pauses with his cup of coffee halfway to his mouth.

It takes him a few seconds to consider his response.

“And if it is?”

Surprise flashes across Erik’s face, before the other man leans in closer. “Perhaps.”

“Perhaps is an excellent start,” Charles tells him.

“And if I were to want something more than sex?” Erik asks, and there is a tinge of fear in him now, echoing in Charles’ own head, like he’s scared of being turned down.

Charles takes a deep breath in and then says, “I wouldn’t be opposed to that. In fact—” he takes another breath to steel nerves “—I’d like that. Very much.”

“Good,” Erik says, smiling a soft smile that Charles hasn’t seen in— _god,_ three decades.

Charles smiles back, and thinks that maybe—just maybe—they’re finally people who can make a relationship work. “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is...considerably shorter than the other chapters.


End file.
